Gathering Closeness
by sometimeswelose
Summary: In COA, you don't really get to see how Malec forms, apart from, you know, what's important to the plot. So here's some imagined happenings. Characters belong to Cassandra Clare, and not to me. M because of reasons...
1. Chapter 1: Reality

_Alec was reading in his room at the Institute, strands of his black hair falling over his face as he bent his head over the pages. It was quiet - he was aware of the unusual silence, even as he glanced over the weapons manual. The silence was like absolution. Nothing that happened in this deadened stillness could matter. Even the sound of his door opening didn't startle Alec; the noise seemed absorbed - not real. A phantom echo. _

_Alec looked up to find Jace standing there in jeans a white dress shirt that strained against his muscles. This was anything but a phantom Jace. He turned and shut the door behind him. His movements were tense, and Alec could read the emotions behind them: his _parabatai _was furious. Jace's anger always frightened Alec, because it so often came out against Jace himself. When he was feeling tortured with emotions, Jace would put himself through anything, anything at all, to make him feel something other than the pain. _

"_Come here," Jace said. Alec stood, nerves making him hesitant as he crossed the distance between them. Jace didn't let him speak. He grabbed Alec roughly by the shoulders and yanked him forward, pulling him so that their bodies pressed hard against one another. His lips pressed against Alec's with a ferocity that was not altogether pleasant. His mouth was rough, though warm, and Alec could barely return the kiss, there was so much force behind it. Jace's hands gripped his arms, vice-like, keeping Alec still. And yet..._

_And yet Alec still felt that aching want - that passion that made him accept this form of frustration and sensuality. He would accept anything from Jace, even when Jace was only trying to surround himself with pain. He would accept the death grip on his body, and the weighted kisses that seemed more like an obscenity than affection. Jace flung him onto the bed, shoving him back into the mattress, and kissed his neck, his hands slipping up Alec's shirt. Alec felt dizzy with desire as Jace ripped off his own shirt and bent to kiss Alec's chest..._

Alec bolted upright out of his dream, panting and sweating. It took him a moment to realize he was alone in bed, no one pressing him to the sheets or bruising his skin with cold-hearted love. He ran a shaking hand through his hair, guilt washing over him in steady waves. He _had_ a boyfriend. Sort of. He had Magnus. And that was so much better than nothing. It was so much better, being with him, than the years he had spent alone and frightened that there would never be anybody. That all he would have was a futile obsession over a boy who could not love him back.

And he _liked_ Magnus. So why did he keep having these dreams?

Alec got out of bed and threw on jeans and a dark sweatshirt. It was still early morning, and a pale gray light filtered through his window, summoning shadows from the various objects scattered about on his floor. He moved over to the mirror that stood against one wall. It was an old-fashioned thing, all brass and shining reflection. He looked at himself, trying to see through his appearance to his feelings underneath. He combed down his hair with his fingers, part of him wishing that he understood that sense that Magnus and Izzy seemed to have about looks: what clothes to wear, and how to hold himself, and whether or not he even looked passable this way. He sighed, and turned away from the mirror. There was nothing new there, he was the same as always - dark hair, blue eyes, slim for a Shadowhunter, with narrow hips but still decently broad shoulders.

He wanted to see Magnus.

Alec buried his face in his hands, trying to marshal his thoughts, but he kept seeing the warlock's grin in his mind, kept feeling the soft touch of his hands roving over Alec's body. There was something about the contrast between those memories and the memory of his dream that bothered Alec, but he didn't know what it was, just that it hurt in a faint way. Resigned to the idea, he put on socks and shoes, then crept out through the halls of the Institute, making his escape.

Alec unlocked the door to the flat. Magnus had given him the key just a couple weeks ago, and Alec had had nothing to give him in return, except wordless thanks. He came in and shut the door behind him, and Chairman Meow came sauntering over, looking for attention.

"Alec, my darling, what a surprise."

Magnus was sitting at a long table (he seemed to have new furniture every time Alec came over), papers spread out before him. His dark hair was spiked as usual, this time with a gel that made his hair glitter in the light. He wore jeans that were more the shreds of jeans, the artful tears revealing much of his skin. His deep v-neck shirt was the brightest purple Alec had ever seen, and it completed what was - for Magnus - a rather subdued outfit.

"Hi," said Alec, a bit awkwardly. Magnus hadn't looked up from the papers. "I just thought I'd come by, since we haven't seen each other for awhile. But if you're busy... I don't want to interrupt you."

Magnus raised his eyes to smile at Alec, as if he were fond of his rambling. "You don't need an excuse to come over, Alexander. Although I'm afraid this is going to is going to take a me a minute to finish."

Alec came to look over his shoulder. "What are you working on?"

Magnus waved his hand airily. "Oh, a minor bloodbath between the Seelie and Unseelie courts seems to be unraveling. Dreadful timing, and it's all very dull. Why don't you have a seat while I finish this?" But instead of conjuring a chair for him, Magnus reached up and pulled Alec down into his lap. Alec was startled, but he let himself fall into Magnus as the warlock wrapped his arms around him.

"Much better," Magnus breathed into Alec's ear. "I can almost bear to read this tripe."

Alec's heart had sped up with Magnus's touch, and he allowed himself to fold his body into Magnus's, relishing the warmth and the act of being held.

"But what does a feud between the Faerie courts have to do with you?" Alec asked, confused. "They're always fighting, aren't they?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say it's a feud between the courts, so much as a little fresh disgruntlement. A friend of mine got caught in between, and he's asked me to petition on his behalf. He says the Unseelie dungeons aren't to his taste. But he always was a complainer."

"A Faerie friend?" Alec asked, then bit his lip. Of course Magnus had friends among the Fae. Sometimes he forgot that he was dating a Downworlder.

Magnus nodded, and placed one long finger on Alec's lips. The touch didn't burn, but Alec could feel the fire that was his magic coursing through the warlock's veins.

"Give me a moment, and I'll greet you properly," he said. Alec shut up. He was content to sit there, Magnus's chest pressing against his back as he leaned forward to skim through the documents. His hand lingered against Alec's cheek, which should have felt odd, but didn't. Alec wanted every touch Magnus gave him.

After a few minutes, the warlock snapped his fingers and the paperwork sprung together into one comprehensible stack. He leaned back in the chair, pulling Alec with him so that their bodies stayed pressed together. "Now," he murmured into Alec's ear, his lips grazing skin, his voice almost a pur. "Where were we?"

"I've missed you," Alec said, not quite realizing the words were true until he'd said them. Magnus looked pleased. "Things are so hellish right now, at the Institute. I should be there, really, helping, but I..." he looked down, away from the intensity of Magnus's gaze. "I just wanted to see you," he ended in a whisper.

He felt Magnus's lips press lightly into his hair, could feel his smile as his mouth lingered there for a second. "I'm glad you hadn't forgotten me. I was beginning to wonder if you'd..." his mouth went from Alec's hair to his ear again. "...Run off..." and down to his neck. "...With some..." and the base of his neck and shoulder. "Poor unfortunate soul who isn't aware that I would track him down and fry him into bits," he finished.

Alec laughed. "I'll have to warn off all my suitors, then," he said.

"Yes, you had better."

This was what was missing from his dreams, Alec realized: the feeling of being wanted. Even in his sleep, he knew that the only even remotely plausible reason for Jace to touch him would be a desire to hurt himself, and to hurt himself through destroying the ones he loved. Even in his most hopeless fantasies, Alec could not see Jace looking at him the way Magnus did, with such a possessive want.

"I miss you too," Magnus said, and pressed his lips to Alec's, gently but not without passion. Alec met the kiss eagerly, still marveling in the feel of it. They had kissed so much, and yet each time was a novelty all over again.

Jace was fire, Alec thought as Magnus pulled away. Jace was fire and brimstone and the rushing sweep of flame across open ground. He was like a vision of the apocalypse, the heavens raining down fire to purge the earth.

And Magnus was... well, Magnus. How else could Alec put it? The High Warlock of Brooklyn, hundreds of years old, and still somehow interested in an eighteen year old Shadowhunter, who couldn't even tell his family about their relationship.

And Alec realized, looking up at Magnus's captivating cat eyes, that if that were the choice - angry, self-destructive sex with Jace, or this light, wonderful kiss with Magnus - Alec would stay where he was. Magnus hadn't replaced his feelings for Jace, but still, in that moment, Alec was content with the reality that he had.


	2. Chapter 2: Magnus

Magnus stretched out on his couch after Alec had left, and lit up his pipe. It was an old habit of his, something he had picked up when pipes were still the fashion. He puffed out the smoke in curlicued letters that lilted slightly to one side. Chairman Meow swatted at them with a paw, and stared accusingly at Magnus when the smoke tilted away from the cat.

"Be quiet, I'm out of practice," the warlock said, and blew out a ring that encircled his pet, who turned and sauntered away from the smoke, tail held high with dignity.

_A, _Magnus blew out. _L. E. _He stopped, realizing what he was doing. He set the pipe aside and gazed at it with a puzzled expression. When had his feelings for Alec reached this ferocity? It had been a long time since he'd felt such infatuation. In fact, he wasn't sure he ever had felt this way before, which worried him. New feelings after living for hundreds of years... How odd.

There was Camille, of course. There was _always_ Camille. He couldn't shake her anymore than he could cut off his past completely. But their affair was derived from the necessity of eternity, not from real love, not from the kind of love Alec could give him. There was a certain desperation to mortality; it made people more alive, more passionate, truer. Loving Alec - and Magnus had to accept that that was what he was doing - was all the best parts of the fevered passion of a teenage romance, and all the sweetness of infinite affection.

"Dear god," Magnus said out loud, although even Chairman Meow wasn't there to hear him. "I'm getting sentimental." But then he thought of Alec's quick kiss goodbye - that hasty, apologetic gesture - and the sentimentality seemed warranted.

The warm feelings in his chest evaporated, though, as he looked at the stack of paperwork on his table, and he let out an exaggerated sigh. To say that the Faerie he was helping out of the Unseelie court was a friend would be misleading. He owed the sprite a favor, that was all, but he had hardly wanted to explain that to Alec, not when the Shadowhunter was being so affectionate. Besides which, Alec had enough on his mind. He was worried about Jace and Clary - although perhaps the word wasn't _'worried'_.

'_Jealous' might be more accurate_, Magnus thought, not without some venom. Alec would drop everything for Jace, even Magnus if necessary. It did put a damper in their relationship, one of them being in love with someone else.

PUFF. Magnus, startled, sat up straight as the cloud of smoke appeared in front of him with a loud popping sound. He blinked, and waved the haze away, evaporating it, to find the letter that he'd been waiting for had appeared upon the table.

"Theatrics," Magnus muttered, aware of the hypocrisy in his annoyance. Had he been the one sending a message, there would have been lightening in the smoke cloud, along with colors, shapes, maybe even a musical number or two. But really, Magnus thought as he rose to unfold the note, the sender could have just dropped it into his hand. Then he wouldn't have had to get up.

_Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn,_

_The Queen of the Unseelie court will hear your argument regarding the release of Dyion, Seelie sprite. Present yourself to the old oak in the park, at 7:00 on the 22__nd__, and she will allow you entrance._..

Magnus stopped reading. He was perfectly capable of getting to the Unseelie court without instructions and all this Fae blathering. He ran a hand through his hair, mussing the spikes. On the downside, the Unseelie court was one of his least favorite places in New York. On the bright side, if he got it over with quickly, he could be back in time to oversee his usual weekend party that Friday.

"Chairman Meow," he called, not really caring if that cat had left the apartment or not. "I think it's your birthday again this weekend."

The cat, from some corner of the apartment, gave a piteous meow.


	3. Chapter 3: Enchanted

The first party Alec had been to at Magnus's apartment - if walking through the room, watching him talk to Clary, and then leaving with a rat in place of a mundane counted as attending - had been made up mostly of vampires and Fae, and one or two other warlocks. This time, it was clear that the Faeries were in heaviest concentration, and the lack of vampires was made up for by the appearance of a few werewolves. Magnus must alternate, Alec thought, between inviting the Children of Night, and the Moon's Children. It would be the only way to stop his parties turning into absolute chaos, although... Alec glanced around at the writhing (some might have called it dancing) bodies, the guttural howl of the music pounding in his ears, and thought that this was a sort of hell as well. It was so loud, and sweaty, and -

"There you are," Magnus's voice purred in his ear as his arms slipped around Alec's waist, pulling him against his own body. "I've been looking for you."

"I just got here. Sorry I'm late," Alec said, unwilling to break Magnus's hold on him in order to turn around. He knew that there would be no judgement here, no need to hide from the Downworlders who did not know him. He knew that, and yet still he feared the horde of churning bodies, half-hidden by the dark, and faint glittering light. No one glanced his way - or if they did, it was to stare at Magnus, and not the uninteresting boy he had his arms wrapped around.

"You'll make it up to me," Magnus said with certainty. "Dance with me." He moved his hips against Alec, who felt as if he couldn't breathe. He flushed.

"I don't know how to dance," he said, starting to draw away. Magnus's hands gripped him, keeping him where he was.

"Just move your hips," he said, pressing his hands on his waist, directing him with the movement of his body. They weren't really dancing to the beat of the music. Alec wasn't sure if the music had a beat. It was Faerie music, and it was always hard to tell. There was a rhythm to it, and that rhythm seemed to encompass everything, every movement, every breath. It was lovely and beautiful and terrible and loud and melodic and incongruent.

_Can their music lie? _Alec wondered, as he let Magnus control the sway of their bodies. Faeries couldn't lie. Could the tune lie, when it seemed to say _lose yourself, you will be swept into the dance, you will love it_?

"You're not bad," Magnus said, whispering into Alec's ear under the music. Alec twisted around to look up at the warlock's face, to see if he was joking. He wasn't. His hands stayed on Alec's hips, and he smiled, his smile a little crooked, his teeth gleaming. Alec got his first look at what Magnus was wearing: a silvery mesh shirt that glinted in the light over a black tank top, both of which rode up over the smooth skin of his stomach. His jeans were tight, and threaded here and there with colors, tucked into the black boots which laced up to just below his knees. There was a great deal of eyeliner and purple eyeshadow, and his lips were tinged with a faint silver sheen. Alec didn't really get the make-up or the showy clothes, but he didn't care much what Magnus wore. Magnus was always beautiful, always entrancing, no matter how simple or ridiculous or tight his clothes were. And he was always interested in Alec, and that was all that mattered.

Magnus reached up one hand to brush some of Alec's hair back from his face, staring intently into his eyes. "Considering," he continued. "How much you hate parties."

Alec hesitated, then put one hand to Magnus's neck, the other to his waist, his fingers brushing against the soft, exposed skin where his jeans hung low on his hips. "I don't hate this one quite so much," he said.

Magnus's smile stretched into a grin. It made him look younger, like a teenager. Sometimes Alec could forget he was immortal when he grinned like that. "Really? You don't?"

"No," Alec said firmly.

Magnus leaned in to kiss his cheek, just by his ear. "Good. Because I-"

"BANE!" Somebody called from across the room. Magnus looked around, annoyed.

"Bane, I am telling you, get your shiny face over here. That vampire bastard Miiren just showed up, and he's taunting the pack." Alec still couldn't see who was speaking, but Magnus seemed to know, because he swore and let go of Alec.

"Damn him," he said. He touched Alec's hand. "I'll be right back."

Alec nodded, and watched the warlock disappear into the crowd to deal with his guests. He soon lost site of Magnus's spiked hair as the people - well, _beings_ - on the dance floor converged and folded in on each other and moved in patterns Alec didn't understand. He felt uncomfortable standing there on the side of the floor, so he moved back to the wall, near the drinks. He looked among the bottles, wondering if there was anything here meant for humans.

"Hello, pretty," a voice behind him said. The voice sounded like wind, airy and crackling and full of promise. Alec turned quickly. The voice belonged to a Faerie man - tall, with skin that was pale white interspersed with patches of pale green. Alec could see his dark green veins through the translucent colors. His arms were corded with tight muscles, so compact in his thin arms that they looked almost like springs ready to uncoil. He had human-like features, except that his eyes were black and his mouth was a deep, dark red that looked as if it would taste of blood. His hair was green, but thick and short, cut like a human's. He had that beauty that all of the Fae had - ethereal and deadly. He was smiling at Alec, his mouth quirked up at one corner, his eyes hard and cold as he moved closer to him. "Let me get you a drink."

"Uh," Alec said. "I don't think any of these are meant for me, thanks."

The Faerie man pointed out a pitcher. "Try the lemonade. It is for humans." When Alec didn't move, he only smiled wider. "And Nephilim. I do not lie, little one. Mortals may drink of it."

Alec didn't really trust him, but the option seemed to be to stand there awkwardly, waiting for Magnus, or converse with this... sprite? Or perhaps he was part pixie. Alec couldn't be sure. And he was right, of course: he couldn't lie.

The lemonade was fizzy, and Alec coughed as it bubbled in his throat, not expecting it. The Faerie only smiled at him some more.

"So, um, who are you?" Alec asked when he had taken a sip of the drink, and couldn't prolong the silence any longer.

"You may call me what you wish. I am sometimes known as Dy."

Alec nodded and took another gulp of the lemonade, wishing Magnus would turn up so he could end this conversation.

"And you?"

"Oh, um... I'm Alec," Alec said.

"Alec," Dy repeated. "How crisp. Direct. It must suit you." He reach out one long finger and stroked Alec's cheek. His touch was cold. Alec jumped, but didn't back away. He felt slightly dizzy, as if, if he moved too fast, he might fall. He put the cup he was holding down. The touch was oddly sensual, and Dy alluring, his mouth so red it almost hurt to look at the color.

"I'm not -" Alec started to say he wasn't interested, that he had to go, but he felt too dizzy. It rose up over him, making him light-headed. The dizziness was _want_, he realized. Dy grabbed his hands and pulled him, walking backwards, into the dancing crowd. Alec let himself be towed forward. They were almost to the opposite wall when Dy stopped, and put his arms around Alec's neck, their faces inches apart. Alec realized that they were dancing, like he'd been dancing with Magnus, without even knowing how they'd started. Every movement that brought their thighs touching together, or the feel of fingers threading through his hair, increased the dizziness until it was almost overwhelming. Alec felt as if heat were rising up in his chest, pushing him to be closer to the Faerie.

"Kiss me," Dy whispered, his wind-voice sure and sultry.

So Alec did, stretching up to put his mouth on the blood-red of Dy's, his fingers pressing against Dy's chest. He could feel both of their heartbeats.

Dy's lips opened under his, and then the Faerie's tongue was stroking against the inside of cheek, and he tasted like flower petals, like spring. His hands pressed against Alec's back and he was controlling the kiss now, but Alec didn't mind because he just wanted this touch. More of it, until he dissolved into the heat. Something in the back of his mind argued that it was wrong, that there was something else he wanted. His mouth was too desperate on Dy's, though, to think what it was.

Dy pulled him back, away from the dancers again, until they were back up against the opposite wall. "You are exquisite, little mortal," he broke off to say. "Your eyes shine like the truth." He stroked Alec's cheek again. "How alive you are..."

Alec didn't care to hear it. He kissed the Faerie again, shutting him up. He bit his lip, and tasted the blood he had first imagined. The Faerie gasped, and his hands fumbled to Alec's chest, up under his shirt, roving around his body as they kissed. And then down, over Alec's jeans, and then his hand was sliding under them, where no one, not even Magnus had touched him before. Alec had no thoughts except the idea that he wanted to do this until he died. Dy's mouth on his, his hands running along his body, was making him so dizzy he thought he might faint.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?" A voice thundered, so loud that it seemed to merge with the cacophony of the music. Alec payed it no attention, every nerve in his body alive and focused on keeping contact with Dy.

And then a hand gripped the back of his shirt, and the knuckles grazing against the back of his neck made him feel just as alive, and someone hauled him away. Magnus spun Alec around, his eyes burning, sparks licking against Alec's skin. And Alec could only fall into him, kissing him too, kissing him with the realization that this was the something else, this was what he wanted. He felt Magnus's surprise, felt him stiffen, which was hardly fair because his lips were so soft...

Magnus yanked Alec's head back, and even in his daze Alec could see the warlock's confusion and anger.

"Alec," he said.

Alec felt movement behind him as Dy stretched out his long, pale arms and twined them around Magnus's neck, pinning Alec between the Faerie and the warlock. "There is more than enough of him for both of us, Magnus," Dy breathed, his voice carrying softly. "Do not be selfish with your indulgences."

Magnus's eyes flashed, and Alec felt the crackle of energy rising off of him as he disentangled himself from Dy's arms. The next movements were a whirling blur for Alec. He felt Magnus's hand on the back of his neck, and a jolt passing through him, a cooling sensation that seemed to wipe away all the dizziness, and then he was being shoved into Magnus's bedroom, away from the party. Magnus shut him in, and slammed the door between him. Alec could hear him yelling, but he felt sick all of a sudden and had to kneel, not really paying attention to the shouting.

Oh God. What had he been doing? His memories were blurring, they felt too fast. But the taste of Dy's mouth lingered in his, and he wanted to hurl. He bent double on the floor, as nausea washed over him.

"YOU DO NOT TOUCH HIM." He heard Magnus saying, in a voice like thunder. "Do you understand me, you rotten-" his swearing was drowned out for Alec by the rolling of his own stomach and the pounding in his ears. He sank down until his forehead was actually touching the cool floor. There was a sound - a loud clapping noise - and then the music stopped. "Alright!" he heard Magnus call. "Party's over. OUT." He heard the stomping of feet, and the muttering of the guests as they left. Alec swallowed, and forced back his sickness, forced himself to stand and walk to the door. He pressed his hand against it and turned the handle. It was locked.

He sat back down, shaking a little. The magic that had flooded through him had burned out the drugs - whatever Downworlder drugs that had been in the drink - but it forced it out so fast that he felt weak. He put his head in his hands, breathing deep and slow.

The door banged open. Alec looked up at Magnus, and swallowed, his feelings drowned by guilt. "I'm so sorry," he said.

Magnus's anger was like the ocean: endless waves of fury crashing down in relentless, unceasing tides. Alec could see it in his eyes, the flash of power and the idea that he could hold onto this for all eternity. There was no calm to his expression.

Magnus glared at him. "What?" he said.

Alec blinked. "For... what I did," he said. "I didn't mean, I never wanted-"

"Alec," Magnus said.

Alec almost wished he would hit him or yell or something. He just stood there over him, towering in his fierce emotion. "I know you're angry with me, but-"

"Alec," Magnus repeated, his eyes wide. "I'm not angry with _you_." He sounded startled. Confused.

"But you must be. I-"

"I am now sworn to eternal enmity with Dyion, of the Seelie court, although I will be surprised if he dare comes back to New York again after tonight, but I'm not angry with you." He sat down on the floor next to Alec. "You were drugged, enchanted. I should have told you about the lemonade. It's meant for humans, but the werewolves enjoy the effect it has on them, which is slightly different. It's tempered by the demon illness. It, uh, produces a mere ability for sexual contact, not an overwhelming want."

Alec blushed. "It was so stupid. I can't believe I drank it."

Magnus's eyes flashed again. "Dyion wanted you to. He would have talked you into it; Faerie folk can be very persuasive."

Alec nodded. "What did you do to him?" he asked.

"Sent him to Hell."

Alec bolted up, staring at Magnus in alarm.

"Iowa," Magnus added. "Have you ever been to Iowa in the middle of summer? The humidity will make his hair a nightmare."

"But, I don't understand why he..." Alec bit his lip and looked down.

"Fancied you?" Magnus snorted, finishing his sentence for him. "Because he has always been tempted by pretty things. Especially ones that don't belong to him." He shook his head. "He likes mortals; men, women, doesn't matter. He likes them as long as they tell the truth. A single lie, and they find themselves choking on air."

Alec remembered the wind-breeze sound of his voice, and shuddered.

"A lot of the Fae are like that. They can't lie themselves, and they are fascinated by it." Magnus gave him a look. "I imagine he saw the truth in you. The way you so want honesty. The way it frightens you, but you want it anyway."

Alec said nothing. He felt like Magnus _saw_ him; knew him in a way no one else did. "You know him?" he asked at last. "Dy?"

"Dyion. Yes. He was the one I was helping out of the Unseelie court." Magnus shook his head again. "I won't be doing that again."

"He's a friend of yours?"

"No. I owed him a favor. He helped me once."

Alec was silent for a minute. "Do I belong to you?" he asked quietly.

"What?" There was a startled tone to Magnus's voice.

"You said," Alec went on determinedly. "That he liked pretty things that _didn't belong to him_. Do I belong to you, then?"

Magnus was quiet for a long moment, neither of them looking at each other. "You belong with me," he said. "Not to me."

There was a long silence, and then Alec turned and kissed him. This time it felt right, Magnus kissing him back, and the want rising up was his own. He wanted this.

Magnus drew back, putting his hand under Alec's chin, and staring down into Alec's face with a puzzled look. "You're not still enchanted, are you?" he asked.

Alec grinned, looking up into Magnus's make-up rimmed eyes and thinking that he belonged. So totally and completely belonged. "Maybe I am," he said.


	4. Chapter 4: Soup

The buzzer to the apartment woke Magnus up, and he glanced groggily at the clock before he got up to answer. The red numbers on the digital alarmclock insisted that it was 1:00. In the afternoon. But Magnus refused to believe he had slept that long. It was much easier to be annoyed at whoever was waiting downstairs for waking him up then to admit he wasn't exactly on a normal schedule.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH MAGNUS THE MAGNIFICENT?" he thundered into the speaker, stifling a yawn. He liked to startle whoever called on him; it was a good impression on clients. Or at least, it tended to weed out the more apprehensive ones.

"Um, Magnus, it's Alec," an apprehensive voice said on the other end of the line. Magnus felt his tiredness dissipating, the hard edge in his voice wearing down to softness.

"Alec," he said. "Do me a favor: look at the door. Do you see the keyhole? It should be there, it was there last night. That key that I gave you goes into the keyhole, and then you turn it, and, miracle of miracles, you can let yourself in."

"I didn't want to startle you, if you were sleeping," Alec said, his voice rippling in the static. "You might have thought I was a burglar or something, and turned me into a... I don't know. An octopus? Can I come up?"

Magnus pressed the button and let him in. He opened his door, and leaned against the frame, waiting for Alec to come upstairs. He smiled when he saw the Shadowhunter. "I would never turn you into an octopus," he said, as Alec crossed the landing to the apartment. He reached up and ran a hand down Alec's arm. "They're too slimy. I might turn you into a chinchilla if you really annoyed me; they're so cute. I could get you a little hat. One with sparkles."

"Does everything have to have sparkles?" Alec asked, his lips twitching into an almost-smile with amusement. He fought back the urge to stare at Magnus, who was wearing very little in way of pajamas: just silver and black silk shorts (who even knew they made silk shorts?), and a silvery tank top that stretched tight across his chest. That was an awful lot of skin left uncovered, and he was doing his best not to look too long.

Magnus grinned, and stepped back into the apartment, letting Alec in. "It's only natural to want to shine," he said. "Speaking of which, you look awfully morose." It wasn't the black clothing; that was normal for Shadowhunters. It was Nephilim style, and all the black made Alec's blue eyes stand out even clearer, so Magnus didn't mind. But there was a slump to Alec's shoulders, and he looked as if he were restraining a frown. He looked down at the floor, avoiding the subject.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," he said.

"How-" Magnus stopped, remembering he was wearing only his pajamas, and that his hair was rumpled from sleep. "Ah." He snapped his fingers, and jeans appeared fitted to his body, riding low on his hips and tight on his long legs, his silver tank top switched for a black one. He ran a hand through his hair and decided it was decent enough. "It's fine. One in the afternoon is not exactly the crack of dawn. Although if you ever do feel the need to wake me up so early..." he leaned in to kiss Alec's cheek. "Do it gently," he whispered against his skin.

Alec didn't move as Magnus pulled back from him, and he could see in his eyes that something was wrong. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Are you here for some other reason than to bask in my illustrious company? That and affection, of course," he added as an afterthought.

"No, I..." Alec kept his eyes on the floor. "Jace is missing," he said. There was a short silence. Magnus's eyes narrowed as he looked at Alec's face, Alec still avoiding his gaze.

"I see," Magnus said. "And you thought he might be here? Well, I hate to disappoint you with this knowledge, but I am not a refuge for disgruntled Shadowhunters. I hardly think Jace could afford my fees for staying in this heavenly abode." He swept his hand to encompass the apartment.

"I know. I know he's not here. I just... I didn't come looking for him. I should've, but... I just came to talk to you." Alec wouldn't look up from the floor.

Magnus relaxed a little at the tone of Alec's voice. He sounded lost. Sometimes, Magnus had to remind himself how young the Lightwood was. "He's a Demonhunter, Alec, like you. He probably went out demon hunting and is busy tracking some blue-skinned son of Beelzebub to New Jersey."

Alec shook his head. "He would have called."

Magnus stifled another yawn. It was too early in the morning for such serious discussions. Actually, it was always too early for discussions about Jace. "Never mind it. I'm sure he's fine." He peered at Alec more closely, and frowned. "Alexander, you haven't been eating properly."

Alec finally raised his eyes, startled. "What?"

Magnus pointed one finger and poked him in the chest. "I said, you haven't been eating. Look at you, skin and bones."

Alec looked down at himself. He looked the way he always did. He started to protest, but Magnus waved his words away.

"Not another word until I've taken you out to breakfast - I mean lunch. I do not accept emotional turmoil as an excuse for skipping out on coffee and whatever other form of food you desire. Besides which, there is a _great_ café just down the street. Just let me feed Chairman Meow and we'll go. I won't have you missing out on meals, my little crumpet."

Alec stared after him, dumbfounded, as the warlock went to feed his cat. _Crumpet?_

A few minutes later, they sat down at an empty table in the café. Alec could see why Magnus liked it; it was decorated in French style, lavished with replicas of famous paintings. One side of the menu was in French, all in curlicue letters.

"They have a bisque that is _to die for_," Magnus said enthusiastically as they perused the menu.

"That is... soup, right?" Alec asked.

Magnus looked at him pityingly. "Yes. It's soup." He smiled as he leaned back in his chair, looking wistfully up at the ceiling. "Sometimes I miss Paris," he said.

"Why don't you go back?" Alec asked. He couldn't help himself, but his stomach tightened at the thought of Magnus leaving. At the thought of Magnus leaving _him_; for Paris, for glamor, for the unknown places of his past. For something or someone so much more suited to the High Warlock.

"Oh, I'd hate it now. At least for awhile. I miss _my_ Paris," Magnus said. "I miss _my_ London. You get used to missing things. Nostalgia is an illogical response to living forever."

_One day, will you miss me? Will New York be just another place that's changed?_ Alec didn't ask the questions, but they threatened, on the tip of his tongue.

The waitress came up to their table then. She made no pretense at fitting in with the theme and style of the café. "What can I get for you?" she asked in a New Yorker accent, looking at them in the way all bored New Yorker waitresses looked: like you were just another cup of coffee to make.

"Two coffees," Magnus said. "And a coq au vin for me, and the lobster bisque for him."

Alec didn't protest, but as the waitress walked away he said, "Aren't you supposed to drink wine with that? Not coffee?"

"Yes, well, it seemed rude when you can't drink. At least not here." Magnus grinned. "If we go to France I will introduce you to a world of beverages and their dish counterparts."

"If _we_ go to_ France_?"

"It's not Idris, I know." Magnus spread his arms and shrugged. "But maybe, after all this over and Valentine is gone, it might be nice not to be in the midst of the Clave. I have seen the Clave in the aftermath of war, and frankly it's as much of a mess as the actual and literal battles."

"I keep forgetting he's back," Alec said. "And that Jace is, you know..."

"His son?" Magnus frowned. "Do you think that's why he's missing? He went off to sulk? Bit delayed, don't you think?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. I know he's hurting. I mean, finding out that someone like Valentine is your father... it can't be easy for him."

"You forget that I'm half-demon," Magnus said dryly. "I know all about evil fathers."

Alec blushed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean -"

"It's quite alright."

They lapsed in to silence for a minute, and the quiet was only interrupted by the return of the waitress with the coffees and food.

Alec stirred the soup - bisque - waiting for it to cool, and snuck a glance at Magnus. The warlock had his eyes downcast, looking at his cup of coffee, his long fingers wrapped around the small mug, his dark eyelashes obscuring the fascinating color and shape of his eyes. These past few weeks had been a whirlwind for Alec - less because of the chaos of his Shadowhunter life than because of the strange and wonderful novelty of being in a relationship for the first time. A real relationship. With _another man_. Alec had grown so used to the idea of being alone, of never being loved. It had seemed so impossible. But with Magnus... it was like the party he had thrown the Friday before, how easily Magnus had forgiven him, comforted him even. That was the feeling that made him stay, that made him come to Magnus when he was feeling so lost and hurt over Jace's absence. He wanted to forget about Jace, and he had never felt that he could forget before.

"Alec," Magnus said quietly, not looking up from his coffee. "You're staring at me again."

Alec blushed again. He did that a lot around Magnus. "Sorry." He took a hasty spoonful of soup that burned the roof of his mouth and nearly choked on it.

"I don't blame you, of course," Magnus said, with a flash of a grin. He took a sip of his drink, then set it down and started in on his own food. "My breathtaking looks have halted wars."

"I'm sure," Alec murmured, taking another slower taste of the bisque. It was actually quite good.

"Well, I can never be sure if it was my stunning personal appearance or the threats about disembowelment that made them reconsider, but I prefer to think it was the former."

Alec smiled slightly, but didn't reply. Magnus had been right that he'd been missing a few meals, and the warmth of the soup settled pleasantly in his stomach. Magnus's leg bumped against his under the table, his foot rubbing against Alec's ankle. A strong sense of contentment washed over him, followed fast by an equally strong fear that he could want something so much. But he did; he wanted the feeling that ran through his blood when Magnus touched him, wanted the easy trust in his eyes, wanted his attention, wanted his kisses, wanted the kind of boyfriend who forgave him for being an idiot sometimes, the kind of boyfriend who tried to cheer him up, who made him eat soup when he wasn't taking care of himself. That was everything he'd ever needed in his life, and he was so afraid of losing it.

The rest of the meal passed mostly in silence, but when they had both finished, Magnus leaned over the table, his chest pressed against the side of the wood as he bent closer to talk softly. "I know you're worried about Jace, but don't be - he'll come home. In the meantime, why don't you spend the day with me? I'll even come patrolling with you tonight, if you want. We can go through Central Park looking for demons. Just you and me and escapees from the fires of Hell. Very romantic."

Alec laughed. "Wonderful, but there hasn't been any rogue activity in the park for ages. Mostly just faeries and tourists."

Magnus's eyes were dancing as he looked at Alec. "Well, if we don't find anything for you to hunt..." he leaned closer, and his purring voice was barely audible above the bustling sounds of the café. "All the more romantic time for you and me."


	5. Chapter 5: Marks

Alec had been to Central Park many times over the years, but it was usually in pursuit of some rogue Downworlder. He'd never taken the time to appreciate _this_ use of the park. Magnus led him into the dark crevices of a shaded alcove where a bench was obscured from the path by the shadows. If he looked through the trees, he could see faint lights deeper in the foliage; will-o'-the-wisps, probably.

"Are you okay?" Magnus asked as he pulled Alec with him onto the bench.

"Um," Alec said. "I mean, I'm supposed to be patrolling, but-"

The rest of the sentence was lost in a mumble against Magnus's mouth as the warlock pressed his lips to Alec's. Alec let his eyelids flutter shut, let himself melt into the kisses. Magnus's lips left his, trailing along his skin, over his cheek, down his neck, up to his ear. Alec suppressed a nervous giggle as Magnus's tongue ran lightly along his neck.

"What?" Magnus asked, his voice mere breath against his skin - a sensation that made Alec feel a little dizzy.

"Nothing, nothing, sorry," Alec said hastily. "Just, um, just..." It was very distracting talking while Magnus was doing what he was doing to Alec's neck. "I... nothing." It was after this gem of coherence that Alec's phone rang. He was going to ignore it, but Magnus broke away from him, slid his hand into Alec's jeans' pocket, and pulled out the cell.

"What are you-" Alec started, but Magnus had answered the call before he even finished the question.

"Isabelle, dearest, darlingest, Isabelle. Is this important?"

"_Magnus_," Alec hissed, knowing he was blushing and glad of the darkness. What Isabelle was going to say to him after Magnus answered Alec's phone at this hour...

"I see," Magnus said into the phone. "Mmm. Yes, quite. Well, that is unfortunate. No, no, that he's back, you see."

"Jace is back?" Alec asked, sitting up and reaching for the phone, but Magnus dodged his hand, grinning at him as he listened to Isabelle say something on the other end.

"Yes. I'll tell him. Lovely. Goodbye, Isabelle." He hung up and handed the phone back to Alec, who glared at him.

"What did she say?"

"Nothing interesting. Just that your adoptive brother has strayed back home, and she wanted to know when you'd turn up."

Alec felt his face grow even hotter. He knew that Magnus knew. Of course Magnus knew. Alec's relief that Jace was safe was marred by the guilt at how relieved he felt. He shouldn't care this much, and he felt so terribly guilty that Magnus understand the real longing beneath those feelings.

He stood up hastily. "I should go."

Magnus stayed sitting, his eyes illuminated somehow in the darkness, a faint glow of green and yellow. He looked at Alec for a long time without speaking, something stretching between them in the silence.

Alec wished he would ask him to stay. Wished he would tell him there was a way out of these guilty, confused feelings.

"Call me tomorrow," Magnus said. He smiled, but Alec could barely see it in the darkness. "If you find the time."

Alec nodded, his heart hammering. He wanted to say he was sorry. He wanted to tell Magnus that he meant something to him, that he made him feel things Alec had thought were impossible.

He turned and walked away instead. It wasn't until he was away from the bench, out of sight from Magnus, that he let his hand stray up to the spot on his neck where Magnus had marked him - a different kind of mark than his Shadowhunter runes, but one that he knew was going to leave scarring all the same.

He smiled as he started jogging towards the Institute. He had risked his life before, many a time, but he had never dared to risk his heart.


	6. Chapter 6: Mundane

"Do you think they'll be alright?" Alec asked, not for the first time. He knew he was worrying unreasonably - not because there wasn't anything to worry about, but because there was nothing he could do to stop it from happening.

Magnus sighed and ran his hand through the Shadowhunter's hair. They were sitting together on Magnus' couch, Alec curled up against Magnus' side, Magnus with his arm around Alec. He was protective of Alec and it worried him. Even now, when he should be annoyed that the boy's affections were torn, that he was distracted, that his attention was clearly focused on his friends who were off on their fool's mission to the Seelie court, Magnus was worried that Alec was worried. God. He was falling far too hard, far too fast.

He'd thought this would be light; them sitting on the couch together watching Gilligan's Island, maybe making out, enjoying each other's company. He'd thought this whole thing would be light; light flirtation, light dalliance. But the sunlight coming in through the slit in the drapes over his windows hit Alec's eyes and made them glow an impossible blue that seemed to sum up all of Magnus's feelings: the impossibility of this romance and the purity of it. Well, purity might be too strong of a word, Magnus thought, suppressing a smile. He was only a warlock, after all.

"I am sure they will emerge alive. I've pretty much bet my life on it, haven't I? Exchanging Jace for you is risky for me if he doesn't come back. Although, I have to say, I'm enjoying the benefits of the trade. I think I got the better half of the deal."

Alec didn't smile. Magnus sighed again. "Look, Alec, kitten, the Queen is... dangerous, but she's not evil. Not exactly. She doesn't want to kill your friends. They don't mean enough to her. Not at the moment anyway. If any of them ever becomes important enough to make her think twice about them, God help us all."

Alec could not just ignore the fact that Magnus had called him "kitten." It summoned up all kinds of weird feelings he didn't want to think about at the moment. He curled up closer to Magnus and let the warlock's scent of some sort of ethereal perfume wash over him as he faced the TV. It was playing but with the sound off. He could hear Magnus' heartbeat under his ear where he pressed against his body and he frowned because even this could not distract him entirely from worrying about Jace and Isabelle. And, if he was forced to admit it, Clary and Simon. He didn't like to think about the latter two, but, yes, he worried.

Alec had drifted off to sleep for a little while, Magnus' hand still twisted in his hair, relaxed for once with the TV playing reruns or whatever Magnus directed it to play. It was nice. It was sort of a Mundane thing, he thought, sitting here with Magnus' arm around him. It must be what normal couples did.

His phone ringing woke him. He fumbled it out of his pocket groggily, against Magnus' grumbled protests as he jostled him. He didn't even say hello before Jace was talking to him, fast, quiet, and urgent.

"What?" Alec said. "Simon? But he was with you." Simon - a vampire? He was the closest thing to normal that any of them were. Not that Alec had particularly liked the Mundane, but...

"It's a long story," Jace said into the phone. "Meet me at the Jewish cemetery. Bring blood." He hung up. Alec stared at the phone for a moment, his heart pounding. Jace had sounded so tense. Almost... Almost scared.

"We have to go," he said to Magnus, getting up and looking around for his jacket.

"Alec, what happened?"

"It's Simon. I don't know how, but he's... he's been turned."

"Turned?"

"Into a vampire."

Magnus stared at him for a minute, blinking slowly. "Well," he said. "That does complicate things."

Alec glared at him. "It's not funny," he said. "He's just a Mundane. He's just a kid, and-"

"He's not much younger than you, Alec."

Alec stopped. He felt frozen. They didn't discuss age. They didn't talk about that, and here it was, so close to the surface, just a few words from opening up a subject that might rip Alec to shreds. He was just a kid to Magnus. They were all, really, just immature playthings that he could pass on. Pass by. Hundreds of years were between him and the warlock. A few words, and it could all come crumbling down. He swallowed. Magnus was unreadable. He wouldn't argue. Not now. "We have to go," he said again, and turned away.


	7. Chapter 7: Ships

...

Alec could still hear the commotion of battle coming from the ship, now too far away to reach. He swallowed back the blinding panic at being unable to fight, and focused on Magnus. The warlock was gazing at him, dazed and tired, his cat eyes unblinking as they met Alec's. He was staring at Alec as if the Shadowhunter was the last thing he would see. As if these were the final moments of a life that had gone on too long and he was too overcome with fatigue to do anything to prolong it. He didn't seem to understand what Alec was offering. He wasn't taking Alec's outstretched hands.

"It's yours," Alec said for the second time, his voice breaking slightly, and he took Magnus' hands in his own, forcing the warlock to take what he was trying to give him. Magnus stared at him for another moment without moving, then his hands returned Alec's grip. He looked down at their clasped hands, then brought them up momentarily to his mouth, kissing Alec's skin. Alec shut his eyes. They didn't have time for this, and yet... He felt there would be no time without it. A peculiar sensation was spreading through his body. He recognized it as Magnus' magic, his power spreading through him, like a flame licking his blood.

Magnus was mumbling something, blue sparks flashing around their interlocked hands. Alec knew that he could not break away now if he tried. He stared at Magnus, his heart beating hard as the magic coursed through him. It was not uncomfortable, exactly. Without any fear or panic, Alec realized that it was trust that made this alright. An overwhelming amount of trust in Magnus' ability _to not hurt him_. Magnus looked up at him again, and he looked better, stronger, the blue sparks brighter now. Alec felt tired, knew his strength was slowly draining out of him, but he didn't care. This was important and it seemed right.

"Alec," Magnus mumbled, and didn't add anything else. He extracted one hand and gently pressed a finger to Alec's forehead. The pounding there stopped. _So I did have a concussion, _Alec thought idly. The aching ceased, but he felt more tired now.

"Is that better?" Alec asked, blinking back a sudden urge to sleep.

"Yes, little one." Magnus' voice was gentle. Alec could have listened to it forever. Why couldn't he just let himself?

Magnus was mumbling something again. Alec recognized it as Latin, but he was too tired to translate most of what the warlock was saying. It seemed to be a spell to keep the wards down around the boat. The boat...

Images of Jace and Isabelle and his parents and Clary and the rest of the Shadowhunters he had grown up around flitted in his mind. Fighting... Dying... Demons...

He jerked back to reality abruptly, startled by the stark contrast of the night sky and the lights flashing from the ship.

"Sh..." Magnus' hand touched his face briefly before gripping his hand again. "You can sleep. I won't drain you."

"I'm glad..." Alec mumbled, fighting hard against exhaustion as losing second by second. "That I could give... you something for once." He wanted to say more; something about how Magnus always made him feel like their time together was a gift; how no one had ever given him that kind of attention before; how Magnus was more beautiful than any other person he had ever met... He couldn't find the words and his tongue felt too heavy.

"You always give me strength, little one," Magnus said. His voice kept pulling Alec back to the surface, back to the fight. It was a wonderful thing to keep him conscious. "You always do."

**...**

**Author's Note:**

If any of my original readers are still out there: I'm sorry for the periodic bouts of hiatus... and thank you so much for continuing to read. A huge thank you to the rest of you as well, I hope you enjoyed it and I'm sorry it took so long. I meant to write more, but I didn't think I would get around to it and I didn't want to leave you guys hanging forever so I thought it would be better to finish it. Reviews would be great, they motivate me. Criticism, comments, and requests are welcome.


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